I was recently accused of pretending to be someone pretending to be Fred. It was rather convoluted and I'm not sure if I should count it as the fourth or fifth strike.
[He frowns slightly.] What does that even mean? Pretending to be someone pretending.
[Studying Claire's face for a moment, he falls silent. There must be others here who know Fred. It can't just be Angelus and Spike. Perhaps they know what happened to her.
He can see, though, that Claire is fast coming to the end of her patience regarding Winifred Burkle.]
I know it's not what you want to hear, but you need to give them a little more time to adjust.
Oh, they've begun adjusting. I'm just preparing for the arrival of my next new old friend. And the one after that, the one after that, the one after that... The nexus really is a small world.
I wonder if that's the word. "Mistaken." I suppose it's quicker than explaining they're not entirely wrong. [ she takes a long breath. ] I don't know what I expected. This is the entire reason I was made so exceptionally phobic.
[His gaze narrows slightly. He can hear the bitter resignation in her tone.]
You're not Fred. Perhaps you never were. And you said yourself that you have no intention of going back to your original self, anyway. Why even dwell on the possibility?
[Perhaps he is a little. But can you blame him? He's doing his best to move on from Fred, but it's not easy. It's not as if one can just adjust oneself internally at will. That he'd rather not think of Claire as an usurper in Fred's body is surely understandable. He rubs at his forehead and sighs.]
[ somehow him saying that doesn't come as much of a comfort, much less a tempting invitation. he hasn't adjusted. she knows that. he doesn't want to hear her outline all the various ways in which the woman he loved is not a part of her. claire's exasperated but she's not cruel.
she gives a sigh of annoyance. not at him. well a little at him. ]
[Wesley looks away, down the corridor. He hadn't meant to put her even further on edge. Doesn't want the distance to return. For them to have to circle around each other yet again, interminably waiting for their internal walls to crumble.]
Perhaps a sign would be excessive. Perhaps just a nametag. "Hello, my name is Not Fred."
[ it's a bit of a dark attempt at humour, and it still feels odd to say her name. she's still not sure what to call her aloud. her false smile slivers. ]
Winifred. Miss Burkle. I don't even know how to address her.
I suppose it would preempt some responses. But then they'd just want to know why and how is it possible when you so clearly look like her. Round and round we go.
[He attempts a wry smile, even though he's still a bit tense. He's not even sure why. It is because of all of this talk of Winifred? Or because Claire was upset with him. Or both?]
[It was an olive branch of sorts. He wasn't particularly hungry himself, but he knew that Claire was something of a workaholic. Even without a steady supply of patients, she would have kept herself occupied. And if she was anything like him, having meals were often an after-thought, attended to when the need for sustenance could no longer be ignored.]
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[Studying Claire's face for a moment, he falls silent. There must be others here who know Fred. It can't just be Angelus and Spike. Perhaps they know what happened to her.
He can see, though, that Claire is fast coming to the end of her patience regarding Winifred Burkle.]
I know it's not what you want to hear, but you need to give them a little more time to adjust.
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[He shrugs, not apologising for that.]
It's unfortunate that you have to keep going through this. It must be very trying to be constantly mistaken for her.
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You're not Fred. Perhaps you never were. And you said yourself that you have no intention of going back to your original self, anyway. Why even dwell on the possibility?
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[ her voice turns just a bit challenging. is he projecting? ]
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No, of course. Don't mind me. Vent away.
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she gives a sigh of annoyance. not at him. well a little at him. ]
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[Wesley looks away, down the corridor. He hadn't meant to put her even further on edge. Doesn't want the distance to return. For them to have to circle around each other yet again, interminably waiting for their internal walls to crumble.]
What would you have put on the sign?
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[ it's a bit of a dark attempt at humour, and it still feels odd to say her name. she's still not sure what to call her aloud. her false smile slivers. ]
Winifred. Miss Burkle. I don't even know how to address her.
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[He attempts a wry smile, even though he's still a bit tense. He's not even sure why. It is because of all of this talk of Winifred? Or because Claire was upset with him. Or both?]
Most people just call her Fred.
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Fred, then.
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[It was an olive branch of sorts. He wasn't particularly hungry himself, but he knew that Claire was something of a workaholic. Even without a steady supply of patients, she would have kept herself occupied. And if she was anything like him, having meals were often an after-thought, attended to when the need for sustenance could no longer be ignored.]
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